


a heart on autopilot

by Glossolalia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, I didn't know I could ship them more., Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, M/M, Self-Worth, They are so in love my heart can't even take it in this., pining shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glossolalia/pseuds/Glossolalia
Summary: After Shiro learns about Keith's self-sacrifice attempt from none other than Lotor, he confronts Keith in the castle ship's lounge. There he anticipates addressing several hard topics, such as giving one's life for many, but especially Keith's role in Team Voltron. What Shiro doesn't anticipate is asking the hardest question himself.





	a heart on autopilot

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I posted directly to the archive, but it's nice. I missed it.

1.

Shiro feared dying because, whether or not he debated the topic, which he often did with Keith, he was human and the concept of death-in-progress sucked. This isn't to be confused with wanting to die. Shiro had wanted to die more than once, but that didn't make the whole 'act of death' any less terrifying.

The Black Paladin job description made almost dying impossible to avoid. To cope, Shiro viewed dying like a shadow man haunting his hallways. He and the man had occasional, strange encounters, but Shiro was skilled at avoiding him, slipping through the nearest open door whenever he caught a glimpse.

But giving the shadow man time of day came with paladin territory. Once in a blue moon, the ghostly figure blew against his ear and poured ice into his belly. When frisky, he plucked Shiro's fingers, molesting the man's wringing hands and asking who or what he would hate to leave behind.

Shiro refused to name names. He couldn't have that conversation, but much like giving advice versus taking one's own, Shiro wanted to know what his teammates would tell the man. Surely, each knew who or what they were afraid to leave behind. The best heroes were people first. 

Shiro understood these were selfish thoughts. Invasive, too. Being a paladin implied the universe came before family and friends. Shiro indulged Pidge's inability to abide by this rule, but she couldn't legally serve in most militaries on Earth, so her bar was low. The others followed a different standard. While the team regularly mind-melded, who they fought for was private information.

Still, he wanted to know. 

Shiro caught his wandering thoughts and blinked.

He had to focus.

Lotor was standing on the bridge, but somehow, Shiro's mind had still managed to tread elsewhere. To be fair, the Voltron Coalition had almost bit the dust an hour before. It easily explained the preoccupation with death.

They had cut it too close.

"Allow me to give you some advice," Lotor said, commanding the room with his tone. "If you're going to win a war against my father, then may I suggest an avant-garde school of thought? Your coalition would benefit from retraining its soldiers to believe resigning themselves to death as an impossibility, not a probability. The Galra preach 'victory or death,' but you cannot fight flame to flame when one has been burning over ten-thousand deca-phoeps. You wouldn't be the first to try and fail."

His tone encapsulated the 'know-it-all who does, in fact, know-it-all.' The certainty was refreshing, but subjecting the coalition to condescension soured Shiro's already delicate mood.

"Duly noted, Lotor, but where is this coming from?" Shiro asked. "No one in the coalition has ever endorsed victory or death."

There was a shift in Shiro's peripheral vision. He cut his gaze to the left, forever too guarded.

All leg and cool as a summer cellar, Keith stepped into the center of the room. His arms laid swathed across his chest, and his focus was dead set on Lotor.

 _No surprise,_  Shiro thought, readying himself to uncross swords.  _He's funneled too much time and conviction into Lotor._

Shiro turned his gaze to Allura, attempting to will her attention. Much like Keith, she was standing like a burning bush, resolute and trained on Lotor's every move.

Keith's voice pistol whipped Shiro's focus.

"In war, sacrifices are made so we can save lives. What's the point in having the best freedom fighters in the universe if we aren't using their full potential? Death will always happen in war. Unlike your dad, we don't have an army of sentries to hide behind. We only have our ships and our bodies."

Lotor's eyes impassively drifted from the holographic map to Keith. He nurtured a pause as if to remind Keith he too was capable of power plays. 

"With all due respect, Other Black Paladin, hating one's self under the guise of martyrdom is the opposite of heroic. It's a waste of resources and people's time, especially when that martyr is a Paladin of Voltron."

Keith's eyes flared, shoulders squaring and back becoming stiff planks. Shiro saw the very flames Lotor had advised against spit and curl.

"You've been here five minutes. Don't push your luck."

"Ungrateful, really. Tell me, Keith. Do you truly believe one's full potential is in their willingness to die?" Lotor pressed, claws lazily extending into Keith's skin. Keith hesitated, and this delighted Lotor. "My, my, how very Galra of you."

Shiro flinched for Keith.

"You don't anything about me," Keith gritted out, resolute as ever.

"I know you're wearing Blade of Marmora armor, and I know only those with Galra heritage can be a member of the Marmora. Victory or knowledge. It's either one or death for you."

Keith's control shifted like a gear. He stepped forward, but Lotor didn't react. "Blood or not. That doesn't mean you know who I am."

"Possibly, but do you know who you are?"

Lotor's taunt carried knowingness; also suggesting to Shiro that, whatever emotional mirage protected Keith on Earth, wouldn't provide the same veil to his fellow interspecies Galra.

Keith retracted his step, sharply inhaling through his nose and clenching his teeth.

"Look, Lotor. All I'm saying is we can't give people false hope, and you can't judge those who fight with their lives. Learn how to give better advice." Keith turned over his shoulder at the sentence's crest. "Soldiers need to fight for the universe and their teams, not themselves. The second that stops, nothing gets done."

Whether or not Keith realized, he had conceded to Lotor.

He only furthered the fact by striding toward the bridge's door with a set jaw and eyes wild with stars. When Keith passed, Shiro's fingers twitched to grab his elbow and draw him close, but then wasn't the time. Keith said his piece, and Shiro had to respect him.

Watching Keith disappear through the entrance, Lotor's mouth became a taut line. "Such agency for someone so unhinged. How does he get anything accomplished?"

"Implying he does," Lance said from the room's farthest corner. A hand smacking his bicep followed, and Lance grumbled, muttering Hunk's name under his breath. "Well, he  _doesn't_."

Hunk snaked his hand over Lance's mouth. "Stop making us look bad in front of  _the_  Galra prince. It's not a good look."

Lotor spoke with a lopsided smile. "Don't worry. I didn't take it to heart. He's still in shock."

'Shock' drew Shiro's attention. Lotor couldn't have been ignorant enough to believe Keith wasn't accustomed to near-death experiences, which meant Shiro hadn't been reading between Keith and Lotor's lines. Knowing it was better to be safe than sorry, Shiro narrowed in on the exiled prince.

"I have a feeling I missed something." Cool anxiety blanketed the room as coalition members exchanged bewildered glances. Others surveyed the floor, guilty and intentionally avoidant. The latter's transparency irritated Shiro. "If anyone would like to explain what's going on, then now would be the time. None of us have room for secrets. Our transparency with one another could be the difference between winning this war."

Lotor snorted, pushing Shiro's brow high.

"It's nothing remarkable," Lotor said, maintaining his focus on the holographic Galra ships floating across the map's starry backdrop. Bored by his own divulgence, Lotor moved an ambling cruiser to a more accurate position. "Had I not interfered with Haggar's force field, then your Keith would have used his ship to rout it like a bomb."

If he hadn't been watching Lotor's lips, then he would have missed the moment Lotor mouthed 'bang,' deadpan and without feeling.

Shiro wasn't an aggressive man, but that woke something inside of him. "What do you mean rout it like a bomb?"

Lotor clicked his tongue.

Of course, Shiro knew exactly what Lotor had meant. 

Clenching his bionic hand into a fist and stepping back, Shiro stared down the door Keith disappeared through. Lotor's soul-punching admission kicked Shiro's thoughts over a canyon lip.

Shiro's heart descended with them for several seconds.

He carded his fingers through his bangs and gripped them, steeling himself for impact. Keith dying was so abstruse he could only recognize its implied finality  _after_  his heart slammed against the bottom of the gorge.

Keith almost died.

That was the velveteen version. Each one of them had almost died more times than Shiro could count, so actually, a correction.

Keith tried to kill himself.

In that ruminating silence, Shiro stared at Lotor, waiting for elaboration.

It didn't come.

Matt broke the hush with a sigh. He scratched the back of his head, lifting his eyes to Shiro in remorse. "I was going to tell you when things cooled off, Shiro. A lot happened back there, and now  _he's_  here –" Matt motioned his chin toward Lotor who lifted an eyebrow, annoyed but above retorting. "– and you and everyone else almost died out there, too. It didn't feel like the right time to say something. It felt like another  _thing_."

He was in a room with people who had _known_.

"You should have told me as soon as you stepped off your ship. I have to –" Shiro stammered and looked at the door. Dropping his hand from his hair, he strode toward it. "I have to talk to him right now."

"Shiro," Allura said, warning him with her tone. "I understand you're in shock and that Keith means a lot to you, but he's in one piece. He's safe now. What we need now is your input as the leader."

"Allura, don't –" Shiro started on Keith's trail. "All I need is ten minutes."

 

2.

He located Keith in the abandoned lounge. The night simulators were on, shadowing the room's corners and amplifying the room's quiet.

Keith was seated on a couch back, leaned over his spread knees with both hands splayed along the sides of his neck. The position gave the impression he was asphyxiating himself.

"Don't tell me what I did wrong," Keith said without raising his head. The door hadn't even finished closing. "I don't ask a lot of you, Shiro, so  _please_ , not now."

Shiro stepped into the room's shallow pit, boots smacking the floor and echoing. "That's not why I'm here."

Keith exhaled, the stream ragged.

"Then you should be on the bridge observing Lotor. There is _nothing_ more important than having Lotor on the ship. He could give us every answer we need to defeat Zarkon. You're Black Paladin. Do your job, Shiro."

"Your wellbeing is important," Shiro countered. Keith didn't budge, glaring at the cushion beneath his feet. Shiro understood he had to get under Keith's skin to sway the mood. "For someone who'd rather leap a cliff than lead Voltron, you're pretty intimidating when you give an order. Better be careful. I almost listened, Commander Keith."

The title startled a laugh from Keith. He lifted his head, hands still drooping but eyes bright. "Not a good time to be a jerk, Shiro."

Shiro purposefully scuffed his boot along the floor. "Implying there's ever a good time, but I apologize. You're right. We're sad right now."

Keith shrugged, slowly leaning back. "Sometimes I like it when you're a jerk."

Shiro darted his stare past Keith's head. He carefully slid a palm over his mouth, wiping away building heat, and breathed through his nose. When his nostrils flared, Keith arched an eyebrow and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for something Shiro wouldn't give him.

"Anyway —" Shiro paused, gaze coyly springing to the ceiling. "Is that how you and Lotor are going to talk the entire time he's here?"

"I'm not a paladin anymore, Shiro. Protocol is different for me."

"Kolivan would love to hear that." Shiro ambled forward. His smile grew dimmer with each step. "Keith, whether or not you're in a lion right now, you're still a paladin. We've learned even stepping inside a lion is exclusive. You've piloted two."

"Exclusive makes it sound like you're talking about the red carpet. Try that line on Lance, not me."

"All I want is for you to know how much you matter to me." Shiro swiftly added to that thought. "— and to the whole team. Voltron wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you."

"They told you what I did."

"Matt told me."

Keith closed his eyes. His brow twitched, and he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. Shiro knew when Keith was suppressing and felt a sharp pang in his chest. When Keith made it clear he wasn't going to speak first, Shiro knew he had no choice but to keep speaking.

"Keith, you know that's not how we do things."

"Don't talk to me like I'm still the cadet on your couch."

Keith tidied his posture and hoisted himself to his feet. Standing over Shiro with a low slung gaze, his stare needled through Shiro's facade. Keith stepped off the couch with a graceless stomp, and suddenly, Shiro was a head taller than him again.

"You're the Black Paladin, Shiro. Lotor called me the Other Black Paladin, but we know that's not true. I might be a part of the coalition, but I'm not a part of the team. I'm a number trying to do what's right without getting in anyone's way. Don't talk down to me because I was doing my job."

"A number," Shiro repeated, refusing to hide how ill the word made him.

Keith's eyes burned into Shiro's skull. "A number."

Shiro dropped his hands onto Keith's shoulders. His nails pressed into the Blade of Marmora under suit, and with roving eyes, he drew in a stabilizing breath. Shiro traced Keith's knife-edge clavicles with both thumbs and pretended not to notice when Keith sank his teeth into his cheek or how his bridge ruddied. Shiro knew Keith only stood before him because of luck. An intrusive thought featuring Keith's flash-frozen remains careening through cruiser wreckage rattled him, and at that, Shiro's emotional restraint slid into the backseat and braced itself for a  _ménage à trois_  with impact and shatter.

Tasteless, inappropriate, unprofessional; Shiro wanted to hold Keith and powder the man's lips beneath his. Mortality had performed a stunt that reminded Shiro love isn't eternal but mirrors the same impermanence life never wears on her sleeve.

"Keith, your worth can't be defined by the position you hold in this war. I told you we all have a part to play. You could never be a  _number_."

Keith lowered his eyes. "Yeah, well, that's not how we're trained in the Marmora."

It took everything for him not to tell Keith to fuck the Marmora and come home. Had he been a more selfish man, then he would have never let Keith join in the first place.

Shiro captured Keith's face with both hands. He slipped his fingers into sweat-stiff hair, and his belated panic emptied like a fielded deer.

"You don't get to decide to die. That's not your call to make."

Keith started in Shiro's grip. Had he not been holding him, Shiro had a feeling Keith would have reeled back. Trapped, Keith pushed forward instead.

“I said that when the Kerberos Mission failed. People go when they have to go, Shiro. Others don’t get to make that call.”

Shiro's shoulders tensed, but Keith didn't react. They stared each other down, waiting for the bow to break.

"We need to clear something up right now," Shiro said, words walking the fine line between an explanation and warning. "I never wanted to die on Kerberos, Keith. I never wanted to leave behind you and Earth or fight. Imprisonment wasn't my choice either, and I wasn't sacrificing myself for anyone or anything. I was surviving because humans are hardwired to want to live."

Keith shoved his hands beneath Shiro's shoulder harness and gripped. He yanked Shiro close, and his eyes flung open.

"You sacrificed  _everything_ for Matt. That was one person. What I did was for the universe, Shiro. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing.  _Tell me_."

Shiro remained impossibly calm, knowing it would heighten Keith's rage. "I knew I had a chance to live where Matt didn't. I didn't do it because I was certain I'd die –"

Keith shook his fists, still holding tight to Shiro. A desperate noise like a hit dog shot from behind his teeth.

"If I hadn't tried to break the forcefield and Lotor hadn't shown up, then we would be dead. You would be dead. The Galra would have won. I was doing what Ulaz did. I was doing what Thace did. The mission is always bigger than the individual, Shiro, and last time I checked, I'm less of a someone than most, so why was it a bad move? I  _need_  to know why you're ridiculing me for something you would have done. You would have done it, too, Shiro!"

"Keith," Shiro whispered.

Keith suddenly blinked as if he had been possessed and promptly exorcised, then appearing lost. His eyes darted to the floor between them, and Keith regained himself with a swallow, carefully uncurling his fingers from Shiro's harness.

"Shiro," he quietly said, tongue seeming weighed down. "I know you carry a lot of weight. You think about the blood on your hands. I knew –" Keith swallowed the swell in his throat. "I knew you'd blame yourself. You're good at that, you know? You'd add me to your body count, but I thought — in war, we have to make hard choices."

Shiro cleared his throat. He realized his hands were _still_ holding Keith's head. "Understanding doesn't make this feel okay. It's different in practice. It always will be."

"By definition, none of this is okay." Keith shook his head. "Shiro, Voltron isn't okay. What we're doing here isn't okay no matter how much I believe in the cause."

Shiro meaningfully searched Keith's face. Keith wired his jaw shut but affectionately turned his nose into Shiro's gloved palm. His bottom lip quivered and forehead wrinkled. Keith gritted a whispering sob that most would have mistaken for a dry cough.

"I know" Shiro exhaled. "It's not."

Shiro pressed his cheek to Keith's temple, and after a slight hesitation, Keith slid his arms around Shiro's neck. Keith violently shook, suffocating his crying with the man's shoulder.

"You didn't say anything," Shiro muttered, words becoming thick. He couldn't deny his grief any longer. "Nothing, Keith. Not even a warning."

Shiro knew that was selfish, but that didn't stifle his desire to shake Keith's shoulders and scream in his face. If Keith died, then chunks of Shiro's person died with him. No one else knew where he came from. Where he _really_  came from.

Without Keith, Shiro was the mythic star pilot, a hero with a taste for well-seasoned constellations, known only for his ability to navigate Galaxy Garrison's rules. Keith was the keeper of his malfunctions and missteps. Together, they were people, which Shiro thought was a far greater accomplishment than any lion or simulator score.

"I didn't have time," Keith said. Shiro's body radiated with pain when he heard the unspoken apology. "I was thinking about the mission. There were thousands of lives on the line. My life for them. Make it count. Make yourself count. Show them you care."

"No one has ever thought you don't care."

"You were frustrated," Keith tersely said. "You would have never admitted it, but you were pissed before I left."

"Keith —" Shiro paused, carefully considering himself and Keith. There were many bruised feelings, but there would be more if he didn't stay vigilant. "A lot was happening to the team, and a lot was happening to me. There still is. Feeling powerless in something I once thought was my only purpose did make me lose patience with you as Black Paladin. It's hard to want something someone else doesn't, but that doesn't mean I thought you didn't care. We had a team to take care of. You acted like you wanted to wash your hands of that, not the war."

"When you came back, I didn't have a reason to take care of the team. You were the better fit, Shiro. I knew that if you kept trying, then you'd pilot Black again."

"I didn't mean the Black Paladin takes care of the team by himself," Shiro said. The intonation was too sage-like even for him, but he finished the thought. "Voltron is a group effort."

Keith tightened his hold but didn't speak. Again, it was Shiro's place to dissolve the quiet, but this time, he did it by thinking out loud. 

"What would I do if I lost you?" Shiro whispered. "I don't know."

Keith turned his face so his cheek squished against Shiro's chest. "Have one less person to babysit."

"You have it backward. All you seem to do is babysit me."

"I _save_ you."

"Don't kid yourself." Shiro settled a temple against Keith's crown. "It's the same thing."

Muskiness filled Shiro's nose, and though he enjoyed Keith's warm scent, the comfort was followed by a bursting bubble he had staved off for the duration of the conversation. Keith was preoccupied with that insipid thing called duty, and Shiro was becoming a hot puddle because Keith was lingering in his arms. It was a joke he was considered the rightful leader. 

"What did you think about when you thought you were going to die?" Keith asked, catching Shiro off guard.

Shiro didn't move his face, speaking into Keith's hair instead. "That's a hell of a question."

"I'm a hell of a person," he countered, the confidence a glimmer in the dark.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Right now? More than anything."

While in the Galra cruiser, finishing his final pilot log with oxygen thin and his hope even thinner, he thought about Keith. When the odds rose against him in the arena and Shiro wanted to yield and shed his weaponized limb, he thought about Keith.

Though unaddressed, Shiro's love for Keith had transformed since his imprisonment, but it was love all the same. Love or that omnipotent magic as tart as blackcurrants and with no true alignment.

Love made quintessence a milk-and-water element. Quintessence hadn't plunged them into a ten-thousand-year war littered with emaciated planets and robust cultures consigned to oblivion. Love had.

"You," Shiro said as if observing the grass is green and the sky is blue. On Earth, anyway. "Every dying breath has been preluded by you and stopped by you, Keith."

Keith wrenched them apart. Not to separate them, but to see Shiro's face. His cheeks showed like rose-painted fruit, flushed and lit with blood, and Keith breathed deep. He inspected Shiro's face, eyes darting in search of lies, and Shiro knew Keith didn't want to risk believing him. It was why Shiro remained patient, steadfast while he waited for Keith to process the confession.

Keith spoke as if his thoughts were far away. "You don't mean that."

"I mean it." Shiro wore a heavyhearted smile and very carefully pressed his forehead against Keith's. "I love you. I would cross the universe for you. I  _have_  crossed the universe for you."

Tilting his head, Keith captured Shiro's jaw, and somehow, stepped closer. He shut his eyes and his furrowed brow returned. "How long?"

"I thought it hit me when you dove after Zarkon, but then Lance told me you punched Iverson, so maybe it started there in spirit."

Keith slid his hand down Shiro's chest, roughly feeling along his paladin armor's scratched breastplate Keith attempted to smile, but it never made it. Rather, his lips returned to a concentrated frown that seemed to fight a sneer. He was holding back.

"I love you," Keith said, rasping as if someone had bluntly elbowed him in the navel. He gripped Shiro's hair, anchoring himself to the moment. "I almost died and never told you. You would have never known. I'm so fucking stupid, Shiro. I'm so stupid."

Shiro gripped Keith's hair in return and kept him close. He spoke through tight teeth. "You were doing the right thing, Keith. Your heart was in the right place. Your heart has always been in the right place. Do you have any idea how good you are? How much I admire you?"

He wanted to tell him he was proud, but he didn't want Keith to ever try dying again.

"Don't make me kiss you first," Keith pleaded, melting Shiro with each syllable. "I can't do it right now."

Shiro didn't need to be told twice.

He slotted his mouth against Keith's lips, groaning husky and low while doing his best to maintain clear thought. With Keith practically scaling him, hands feeling every inch of Shiro they could reach, Shiro slipped an arm around Keith's waist and yanked them chest-to-chest. There he savored the way Keith's inexperienced tongue sought his, sweeping and eager with a messiness Shiro balanced using mediating retractions and licks that trained Keith's hunger docile.

Shiro loosened his grip and petted through Keith's tousled hair, pulling from the kiss solely to assess Keith's expression. Keith's eyes were still closed, and he wildly panted. Shiro knew that feeling. That electric hum.

"Are you okay?" Shiro asked, pretending his face wasn't red. "Do you need me to go back to your room with you?"

Keith's eyes opened, but they shifted away from Shiro's face. He was still trying to catch his breath. "Is that a proposition, Shiro?"

Shiro choked on spit, stepping back. He ignored Keith's light chuckle and had to wonder when Keith became so bold.

"You've been through a lot," Shiro stammered. He sniffed and tried to orient himself. "I don't want you to be alone right now if you don't want to be alone. I was suggesting that maybe you need comfort."

Keith swiped his mouth, collecting the wetness from his lips. "There are a lot of ways to comfort someone, Shiro."

"We still have a lot to talk about." Shiro dragged a hand down his neck. He looked ahead to make meaningful eye contact only to notice Keith was very rumpled and very pink. Shiro sighed. "We should talk about what happened earlier today, and also, what happened here, especially if you're going to discuss  _propositioning_  one, which, honestly, was morbid timing."

Keith replied strained, too lightly. "I once read that death makes you loose with passion? I —"

"Passion — that's the word you're using for it." Shiro gently whistled and stared at his hands, needlessly inspecting them. "That's… that's definitely a word choice."

Keith pretended to find his sleeve incredibly interesting. As if, maybe, it would teach him how to understand the fourth dimension. "Better than other words."

"Such as —"

"Combine the words horn and knee or phở and duck minus d."

Shiro's hands slowly closed into fists, and he gathered himself. Breathing in deep and raising his head, Shiro leveled his chin.

Keith wasn't nearly as strong.

"Didn't know you were so into Hooked on Phonics." He carefully planted his hands on his hips and tried to remember he was the leader of Voltron, not twelve. He smiled, but it was mostly one corner of his mouth. "I need to go upstairs, but we'll talk after dinner. A lot of words to go over and learn."

Keith parted his lips, unsure. He scratched his temple with a single finger and laughed. "Sure, Shiro. Uh — can't wait to play with you."

As difficult as it was, Shiro let the innuendo go. "Keith, I'm serious. If you want me to stay, then I'll stay."

"I'm okay," Keith promised too easily. Shiro didn't withhold his skepticism, and Keith closed his eye. He carded his fingers through his hair. "I'm not okay, but I feel better. Thanks for checking in on me, Shiro. I know this wasn't good timing."

"Lotor isn't going anywhere. You know the bridge records everything. It's fine, Keith."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

Striding forward to ruffle Keith's hair before he left, Shiro thought better than to leave on that brotherly note. He carefully kissed Keith instead, gliding his thumb along his swollen bottom lip and forgetting his name when Keith kissed the tip.

"You're trouble," Shiro whispered.

"Call it shock."

Shiro pithily laughed and released him. Walking to the door, it slid open with a mechanical hum.

"Hey, Shiro."

Shiro cast a short look over his shoulder, waiting.

"I did think about you," Keith said, eyes warm but not hiding the hurt. "As many times as it takes. Remember?"

Reluctantly, Shiro matched Keith's smile. 

"How could I forget?"


End file.
